


I love you, John

by angelfiregirl80



Series: Prompts [20]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 09:58:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5739364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelfiregirl80/pseuds/angelfiregirl80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock loves saying I love you, John</p>
            </blockquote>





	I love you, John

Sherlock never repeated himself, in fact, he dreaded it. He wasn’t fond of repeating stuff to people that barely listened, and he hated having to repeat facts to the idiots at New Scotland Yard. But with John, his John; things were different, he would speak slower, not because he thought John was a moron like the seventh billion humans that inhabited this world, but because for him it was important that John would understand him and would follow his trail of thoughts.

But there were four words that Sherlock loved, and that he loved repeating, _ad nauseam_ , as meddlesome Mycroft once stated, and those words were “I love you, John”, and he repeated them because he could see the effect those words caused on his Doctor, and loved the way his pupils flared and dilated, making the deep blue of John’s eyes disappear for a moment; and the way his heart rate increased, and his breath got caught in his chest; and how John kissed him after hearing those four words.

He loved repeating them while he was being held by his hips and was being thrusted into the mattress; and how he would scream them when he could finally release, and fall to oblivion in John’s arms, fighting for breath and wanting to open his eyes to see John’s and his reaction to those four wonderful words. No other words could be repeated so vehemently and with such conviction by the detective, he would say them after receiving his morning coffee, or after his afternoon cuppa; he had said them during their wedding ceremony, and all night during their first night as husbands; he had said it at the top of the Eiffel tower, and every night in the comfortable hotel room where they stayed during their honeymoon.

He repeated those words, and every time he said them he could feel his heart beating faster, his breathing getting shallower, and electricity run up and down his entire body. It gave him a thrill unknown to him every time he said those four wonderful words, he tried to compare it to the thrill produced by cocaine, he foolishly thought that he loved cocaine at some point, but, oh; how wrong he was, that was not love, was need, and no thrill could compare to the love he felt for John, not even the best solution could give him that rush of adrenaline that his brain received every time he said “I love you, John”, so he gave up, and tossed the cocaine aside, John was a much better drug.

But what was better than saying them, better than them being repeated like a mantra “I love you, John”; was hearing them from John’s mouth, saying them to him, not as a response, not a simple “me too”, or a simple “I love you too”, but the four words that were his entire world “I love you, Sherlock”.           


End file.
